Same Time, Next Year

by Debbie Macomber

  “I don’t know.”

  “Are you afraid you’ll lose her?”

  “No.”

  “Then put off the wedding until after the election. Is that so much to ask?”

  * * *

  “I’m not sure which is worse,” Julie said, applying bright red polish to her toenails, “this year or last.”

  “What do you mean?” Summer asked.

  “You.” She swirled the brush in the red paint and started with the little toe on her left foot. “Last year, after you broke up with Brett, you moped around the apartment for months.”

  Summer laughed. “This year isn’t much better, is it?”

  “Not that I can see. Listen, I understand how much you miss James. The guy’s hot. No wonder you fell for him. If the situation was reversed, you can bet I’d be just as miserable. The thing is, you won’t be apart for long. April’s right around the corner.”

  Summer folded her arms and leaned against the back of the sofa. “I didn’t know it was possible to love someone as much as I love James.”

  “If the number of times he calls you is any indication, I’d say he feels the same about you.”

  “He works so hard.” Summer knew that many of James’s late-night calls came from his office. She also knew he was putting in extra-long hours in order to free up time he could spend with her.

  “Summer, he’ll be here in a few days.”

  “I know.”

  “You haven’t told him about Brett?” Julie asked.

  Summer’s nails bit into her palms. “What good would it do? James is fifteen hundred miles away. Brett hasn’t got a chance with me. Unfortunately he doesn’t seem ready to accept that. But he’s going to get the same message whenever he calls.”

  “By the way, when James visits, I’m out of here.”

  “Julie, you don’t need to leave. We can get a hotel room—really, we don’t mind.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. This is your home. You’d be more relaxed, and both of you have been through enough stress lately.”

  Summer was so grateful it was all she could do not to weep. It was the stress, she decided, this tendency to be over emotional. “Have I told you how glad I am that you’re my friend?”

  “Think nothing of it,” Julie said airily.

  “I mean it, Julie. I don’t know what I would’ve done without you these last weeks. I feel like my whole world’s been turned upside down.”

  “It has been. Who else goes away for a week and comes home married? Did you think James had lost his mind when he suggested it?”

  “Yes,” she admitted, remembering the most fabulous dinner of her life. “I don’t think he’s done anything that impulsive his whole life.”

  Julie grinned. “Until he met you.”

  “Funny, James made the same comment.”

  The phone rang just then, and Summer leapt up to answer it on the off chance it was James.

  “Hello,” she said breathlessly.

  “Summer, don’t hang up, please, I’m begging you.”

  “Brett.” Her heart sank. “Please,” she told him, “just leave me alone.”

  “Talk to me. That’s all I’m asking.”

  “About what? We have absolutely nothing to say to each other.”

  “I made a mistake.”

  Summer closed her eyes, fighting the frustration. “It’s too late. What do I have to say to convince you of that? You’re married, I’m married.”

  “I don’t believe it.” His voice grew hoarse. “If you’re married, then where’s your husband?”

  “I don’t owe you any explanations. Don’t phone me again. It’s over and has been for more than a year.”

  “Summer, please…please.”

  She didn’t wait to hear any more. His persistence astonished her. When she’d found him with another woman, he’d seemed almost glad, as though he was relieved to be free of the relationship. In retrospect, Summer realized that Brett had fallen out of love with her long before, but had lacked the courage to say anything. Later, when he’d married, and she learned it wasn’t the same woman he’d been with in Vegas, she wondered about this man she thought she knew so well, and discovered she didn’t know him at all.

  His behavior mystified her. After loving Brett for six years, she expected to feel something for him, but all the feeling she could muster was pity. She wanted nothing to do with him. He’d made his choice and she’d made hers.

  “Brett? Again?” Julie asked when Summer joined her in the living room.

  Summer nodded. “I hope this is the end of it.”

  “Have you thought about having the phone number changed?”

  “That’s a good idea. And I’m going to get call display, too.”

  Julie studied her for a moment. “Are you going to tell James why we’ve got a new phone number?”

  “No. It would only worry him, and there’s nothing he can do so far away. Brett doesn’t concern me.”

  “Maybe he should.”

  * * *

  Summer arrived at the Orange County airport forty minutes before James’s flight was due, in case it came in early. Every minute of their day and a half together was carefully planned.

  The only negative for Summer was the brunch with her parents Sunday morning. Her mother had several questions about the wedding that she needed to discuss with James. Summer begrudged every minute she had to share James; she knew she was being selfish, but she didn’t care.

  Julie, true to her word, had made a weekend trip to visit a family member, an elderly aunt in Claremont.

  By the time James’s plane touched down, she was nearly sick to her stomach with anticipation. As soon as he stepped out of the secure area, he paused, searching for her.

  Their eyes connected and in the second before he started toward her, her heart seemed to stop. Then it began to race.

  When they’d parted in Las Vegas, it felt as if everything had come to an abrupt standstill. Now she could see him, could feel him, for the first time since they’d parted two weeks ago.

  Dashing between the other passengers, she ran toward him. James caught her in his arms and crushed her against him. His hands were in her hair, and his mouth hungrily sought hers.

  His embrace half lifted her from the ground. She clung to him, fighting back a flood of emotion. Unexpectedly tears filled her eyes, but she was too happy to care.

  James broke off the kiss, and Summer stared up at him, smiling. It was so good to see him.

  “What’s this?” he asked, brushing his thumb across the moisture on her cheeks.

  “I guess I missed you more than I realized.”

  “You’re beautiful,” he said in a low voice.

  “I bet you tell all the women that,” she joked.

  “Nope, only the ones I marry.”

  Summer slipped her arm around his waist, and together they headed toward the luggage carousel. “I packed light.”

  “Good.” Because it felt so good to be close to him, she stood on the tips of her toes and kissed his cheek. “You’ll be glad to hear Julie’s gone for the weekend.”

  “Remind me to thank her.”

  “She’s been wonderful.”

  “Any more crank calls?”

  Summer had almost forgotten that was the excuse she’d given him when she’d had her phone numbers changed. “None.” And then, because she was eager to change the subject, she told him, “I’ve got every minute planned.”

  “Every minute?”

  “Well, almost. Mom and Dad invited us over for brunch in the morning. I couldn’t think of any way to get out of it.”

  “It might be a good idea to see them.”

  “Why?”

  James frowned, and she noticed the dark circles under his eyes. He was working too hard, not sleeping enough, not eating properly. That would all change when she got to Seattle. The first thing she’d do was make sure he had three decent meals a day. As for time in bed, well, she didn’t think that would be a problem.
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  “There might be a problem with the wedding date,” he said reluctantly.

  Summer halted midstep. “What do you mean?”

  “April might not work, after all.” He paused. “It doesn’t matter, does it? We’re already married.”

  “I know, but…”

  “We can talk about it later, with your family. All right?”

  She nodded, unwilling to waste even one precious minute arguing over a fancy wedding when she already wore his ring.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  For years James had lived an impassive and sober life. He’d never considered himself a physical man. But three weeks after marrying Summer, making love occupied far more of his thoughts than it had in the previous thirty-odd years combined.

  “How far is it to your apartment?” he asked, as they walked to her car.

  Summer didn’t immediately respond.

  “Summer?”

  “It seems to me we have a few things to discuss.”

  “All right,” he said, forcing himself to stop staring at her. She had him at a distinct disadvantage. At the moment he would have agreed to just about anything, no matter where the discussion led—as long as they got to her place soon. As long as they could be alone…

  “I want to know why there’s a problem with the wedding date.”

  He should’ve realized. “Sweetheart, it has more to do with your parents than you and me. Let’s not worry about it now.”

  “You want to delay the wedding, don’t you?”

  “No,” he responded vehemently. “Do you honestly think I’m enjoying this separation? I couldn’t be more miserable.”

  “Me, neither.”

  “Then you have to believe I wouldn’t do anything that would keep us apart any longer than necessary.” James glanced at her as she drove. He was telling the truth, although not, perhaps, the whole truth. Time enough for that later, he thought. He was worried about Summer. She seemed pale and drawn, as if she weren’t sleeping well or eating right. This situation wasn’t good for either of them.

  After fifteen minutes they arrived at her apartment building. He carried in his suitcase and set it down in her small living room, gazing around.

  Summer’s personality seemed to mark each area. The apartment was bright and cheerful. The kitchen especially appealed to him; the cabinets had been painted a bold yellow with red knobs. Without asking, he knew this was her special touch.

  She led him into her bedroom, and he stopped when he noticed the five-foot wall poster of her as Beauty posing with the Beast. She looked so beautiful he couldn’t take his eyes off it. He felt a hint of jealousy of the man who was able to spend time with her every night, even if it was in costume.

  His gaze moved from the picture to the bed. A single. He supposed it wouldn’t matter. The way he felt just then, they’d spend the whole night making love anyway.

  He turned toward his wife. She smiled softly, and in that instant James knew he couldn’t wait any longer. His need was so great that his entire body seemed to throb with a need of its own.

  He held out his hand, and she walked toward him.

  If he had any regrets about their time in Vegas, it was that he’d been so eager for her, so awkward and clumsy. Tonight would be slow and easy, he’d promised himself. When they made love, it would be leisurely so she’d know how much he appreciated her. They’d savor each other without interruption.

  “Summer, I love you.” He lifted the shirt over her head and tossed it carelessly aside. His hands were at the snap of her jeans, trembling as he struggled to hold back the urgency of his need.

  He kissed her with two weeks’ worth of pent-up hunger, and all his accumulated frustration broke free.

  He eased the jeans over her slender hips and let them fall to her feet, then released her long enough to remove his own clothes. As he was unbuttoning his shirt, he watched her slip out of her silky underwear. His breath caught in his throat.

  When James finished undressing, they collapsed on the narrow bed together. And then he lost all sense of time….

  * * *

  Summer woke to the sound of James humming off-key in the kitchen. The man couldn’t carry a tune in a bucket, as her dad liked to say. Smiling, she glanced at her clock radio—almost 6:00 p.m. She reached for her housecoat and entered the kitchen to find him examining the contents of her refrigerator.

  “So you’re one of those,” she teased, tying the sash of her robe.

  “One of what?” He reappeared brandishing a chicken leg.

  “You get hungry after sex,” she whispered.

  “I didn’t eat on the plane, and yes,” he said, grinning shyly at her, “I suspect you’re right.”

  She yawned and sat on the bar stool. “Anything interesting in there?”

  “Leftover chicken, cottage cheese three weeks past its expiration date, Swiss cheese and an orange.”

  “I’ll take the orange.” She yawned again.

  “Have you been getting enough sleep?” He peeled the orange and handed it to her, frowning. It wasn’t his imagination; she was pale.

  “More than ever. I seem to be exhausted lately. All I do is work and sleep.”

  “Have you seen a doctor?”

  “No. I’m fine,” she said, forcing a smile. She didn’t want to waste their precious time together discussing her sleeping patterns. She ate a section of the rather dry orange. “I better shower and get dressed.”

  “For the show?”

  She nodded, sad that part of her weekend with James would be spent on the job, but there was no help for it. It was difficult enough to trade schedules in order to fly up to Seattle.

  “I’m looking forward to seeing what a talented woman I married.”

  “I hope I don’t disappoint you.”

  “Not possible.” He shook his head solemnly.

  “James,” she said, staring down at the orange. “Do you ever wonder what’s really there between us?”

  He tossed the chicken bone into the garbage. “What do you mean?”

  “Sometimes I’m afraid all we share is a strong physical attraction. Is there more?”

  He swallowed; the question seemed to make him uncomfortable. “What makes you ask that?”

  “In case you haven’t noticed, we can’t keep our hands off each other.”

  “What’s wrong with that?”

  “I think about us making love—a lot. Probably more than I should. You’re a brilliant man. I’m fairly sure you didn’t marry me because I challenge you intellectually.”

  “I married you because I fell in love with you.”

  He made it sound so uncomplicated.

  “I love the way a room lights up when you walk into it,” he said. “When you laugh, I want to laugh, too. I’ve never heard you sing or seen you perform on stage, but there’s music in you, Summer. I sensed it the first night we met.

  “Just being with you makes me want to smile. Not that you’re telling jokes or doing pratfalls or anything—it’s your attitude. When I’m with you, the world’s a better place.”

  Summer felt her throat tighten.

  “Like your father, an attorney or a judge can develop a jaded perspective in life. It’s difficult to trust when the world’s filled with suspicion. It’s difficult to love when you deal with the consequences of hate every day. Perhaps that’s been my problem all along.”

  “Not trusting?”

  “Yes. You came to me without defenses, devastated, vulnerable, broken. I’d been hurt, too, so I knew how you felt because I’d experienced those same emotions. I’d walk through the fires of hell before I’d allow anyone to do that to you again.” He walked over and held out his hand. “It’s more than just words when I say I love you, Summer. It’s my heart, my whole heart.”

  She gripped his hand with both of hers.

  “If you’re afraid our relationship is too much about sexual attraction, then maybe we should put a hold on anything physical for the rest of the weekend. Instead, we’ll c
oncentrate on getting to know each other better.”

  “Do you think it’s possible?” She gave him a knowing look, then leaned forward. The front of her robe gaped open, and Summer watched as he stared at her breasts, then carefully averted his eyes.

  “It’s possible,” he said in a low voice. “Not easy, but possible.”

  “I need to take a shower before I leave for work.” She slipped off the stool and started to walk away. Then she turned, looked over her shoulder and smiled seductively. “Remember what fun we had in the shower, James?”

  James paled. “Summer,” he warned through clenched teeth. “If we’re going to stay out of the bedroom, I’ll need your help.”

  She turned to face him full on. “The shower isn’t in the bedroom.”

  “Go have your shower,” he said stiffly. “I’ll wait for you here.”

  “You’re sure?” She released the sash and let the silk robe fall open.

  He made a sound that could mean various things—but he didn’t make a move. Feeling slightly disappointed, Summer walked slowly into the bathroom and turned on the shower.

  She’d just stepped inside and adjusted the water when the shower door was pulled open.

  Naked, James joined her there. “You know I can’t resist you,” he muttered.

  “Yes,” she said softly. “I can’t resist you, either.”

  * * *

  Summer and her mother were busy in the kitchen at the Lawton family home. James sat in the living room with his father-in-law, watching a Sunday-morning sports show.

  James didn’t have the heart to tell Hank that he didn’t follow sports all that much. And he sure wasn’t going to admit he found them boring.

  “Helen’s going to be talking to you later,” Hank said, relaxing during a spell of uninterrupted beer commercials. “She’s having trouble getting a decent hall for the wedding reception in April. The church is no problem, mind you, but finding a hall’s become pretty complicated.”

  “Summer said something about the Moose Hall.”

  “That fell through. I’ll let Helen do the explaining.”